


Promises kept

by Felinafullstop



Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felinafullstop/pseuds/Felinafullstop
Summary: AT (Alternate time line) when Thrall and Aggra perish, Vol'jin is tasked with bringing their offspring somewhere he is not comfortable with, but promises are made to be kept.Short Drabble. May not go anywhere.





	Promises kept

**Author's Note:**

> "Integrity is the most valuable and respected quality of leadership. Always keep your word." - Brian Tracy

It makes a sort of sense Vol'jin thinks. What's happened to Azeroth. He walks, slow even steps as to not jostle the cargo on his back. He pushes back the brush to push forward through the tall grass toward the northern reaches of Ashenvale. The damage here had been great from the great dragon, but the scars were starting to fade. Nature was retaking the land. Thrall would have been pleased with the development.  


The precious cargo, the infant son of his friend, is strapped to his back. A female of his tribe had offered to join him, care for the child as they traveled, but he could not risk that. He needed to move quickly, and with another pair of feet that wasn't going to happen. He did this for Thrall, his warchief, the warchief with whom he followed honorably.  


The infant meweled. "Easy Durak, we almost d'ere." He whispers low as he steps forward into the grass again. "You gonna hear some bad 'tings bout yer fad'a." He whispers. "Don' listen to dem words." He nods "Yer Fad'a was..." It's hard to finish that sentence. He mulls words like: great, powerful, honorable, and skilled around in his mind. He feels a flash of the word humble and sighs.  


"You needn't step further." A booming voice says in orcish.  


Vol'jin turns slowly. "Stormrage." He didn't know the Druid knew orcish, but as a man of many forms it was possible he was also an elf of many tongues.  


The troll shifted his arms back to his pack pulling down his precious cargo. "I be fulfilling a promise."  


Malfurion sighed, "Then he is dead." The Troll nodded and pulled the hood away from the small child he held in his arms. "This is the child?"  


"Promised me brother I'd get 'im to ya." Vol'jin smiles as the child grabs one of his tusks. "Thrall be wanting the child in ya care."  


Malfurion shakes his head as if this makes little to no sense. "Why?"  


"Cause if anyone can hide 'im." Vol'jin held the orc infant up. "It be you."  


Malfurion sighed looking away as if to think. Vol'jin feared he'd be taking the child back, back to the dark spear, and that was no place for him. Not the son of Thrall. Malfurion turned his head and nodded. "Innocent of war." He nods. "I will take the Son of Thrall and Aggra." He comes forward extending hands, bound in leaf and moss.  


Vol'jin almost stops, almost doesn't give the child over to him. He knows this is what Thrall wished, but he nearly can't bring himself to do it. Nearly.  


Malfurion reaches below the bundle and smiles at the sleeping Orc. "He looks like her." He murmurs lifting the little one up in his arms and lifts his fingers over him making a flower bloom on his hand and offering it over the infant's forehead. Vol'jin doesn't move but there's a slanderous word in his mind about Druid baptism.  


Vol'jin releases his hold and nods. "Dat 'e does." He agrees, because if there is one thing they both can agree on, the boy has his mothers looks. Vol'jin slinks back to the ground petting the earth softly. "I'll be taking ma leave." He says softly.  


"You may ride freely south." Malfurion says. "We will allow you back to the the land of your people." He takes another deep breath. "Should you break from that course, we will of course have to do something about that." He states.  


Vol'jin trusts the Druid at his word and gives a curt nod. He says nothing, he simply turns and walks back through the grasses, his raptor not far away. He shakes his head, when did fullfilling promises get so difficult? When did keeping ones word become so ...stressful?

He doesn't know the answer to those questions, and if his people knew that they would probably loose faith. He takes a moment to stop, knowingly not looking back, but he looks up at the trees, and then continues on his way, toward home, back to his own faction. To his own side of the war where he speaks for his people.


End file.
